The Sorrows of Belgium / A Play in Six Scenes

he house, and another woman was later found and arrested in the house where the conspiracy had been hatched. She was its mistress. At the same time a great deal of dynamite a

e imprisoned after the arrest; they were tried swiftly

of them wished to emphasize his daring by even a superfluous smile or by a feigned expression of cheerfulness. Each was simp

answering not the judge, but statisticians, for the purpose of supplying information for particular special tables. Thre

liar to persons who are very ill or are carried away by some great, all-absorbing idea. They glanced up occasionally, caught so

ldered man, so strong that neither the prison nor the expectation of inevitable death could remove the color from his cheeks and the expression of youthful, happy frankness

Golovin looked at the sky, tugged at his beard, blinked now one eye, now the other, with its long, curved lashes, earnestly pondering over something. Once he began to move his fingers rapidly and thoughtlessly, knitted his brow in some joy, but then he glanced about and his joy died out like a spark which is stepped upon. Almost instantly an earthen, deathly blue, without first changing into pallor, showed through the color of his cheeks. He clutched his downy hair, tore their roots painfully with his fingers, whose tips had turned white. But the joy of life and spring was stronger, and a few minutes later his frank young face was again yearning toward the spring sky. The young, pale girl, known only by the name of Musya, was also looking in the same direction, at the sky. She was younger than Golovin, but she seemed older

because in all the filthy, official hall the blue bit of sky was the most beautiful, the purest,

Sergey Golovin;

testimony of the detectives as presented to the court. He was not tall in stature. His features were refined and delicate. Tender and handsome, so that he reminded you of a moonlit night in the South near the seashore, where the cypress trees throw their dark shadows, he at the same time gave the impression of tremendous, calm power, of invincible firmness, of cold and audacious courage. The very politeness with which he gave brief and precise answers seemed dangerous, on h

ed shirt clung to his body, interfering with the freedom of his movements. With a supernatural effort of will-power he forced his fingers not to tremble, his voice to be firm and distinct, his eyes to be calm. He saw nothing about him; the voices came to him as through a mist, and it was to this mist that he made his desperate efforts to answer firmly, to answer loudly. But having answered, he immediately forgot q

er m

erable desire to cry out, without words, the desperate cry of a beast. He

asya. It will

e seemed as a mother to all of them: so full of anxiety, of boundless love were her looks, her smiles, her sighs. She paid not the slightest attention to the trial, regarding it as though it were something entirel

Musya and Werner she gazed proudly and respectfully, and she assumed a serious an

he sky. Look, look, my darlin

to do with him? If I should speak to him I might m

he did not give a single thought to the fact that she, too, was upon trial, that she, too, would be hanged; she was entirely indifferent to it. It was in her house that the bom

rew cold, wintry. Golovin heaved a sigh, stretched himself, glanced again twice at the window, but the cold darkness of the night alone was there; then continuing to tug at his short beard, he began to examine with childish curiosity the judges, the soldiers with their muskets, and

evading each other's helplessly confused, pitying and guilty eyes, the convi

verything will be ove

even somewhat cheerfully. And indeed, his face had turned sligh

they've hanged us," Go

expected," repli

and we shall all be placed together," said Tanya Kovalchuk

Then she resolut